


“Her Name’s Amanda”

by theministerskat



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Book 6: A Breath of Snow and Ashes, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Gen, missing moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21685438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theministerskat/pseuds/theministerskat
Summary: A quiet moment between Roger and Brianna after the birth of their second child, and why Roger chose to name her Amanda.
Relationships: Brianna Randall Fraser MacKenzie/Roger MacKenzie Wakefield
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	“Her Name’s Amanda”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IanMuyrray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IanMuyrray/gifts).



> Born from a Tumblr prompt from @ianmuyrray: Headcanon ask for you! How did Brianna and Roger come up with the name Amanda? Hope is one of her middle names— how about that one? And how did the nickname Mandy come about?

The fire had been smoored for the night, the embers casting a warm, soothing glow about the cabin. Brianna could still make out the intricate features of Roger’s face from the light of the hearth. She had long since memorized every hard ridge and supple slope of him, but with time, she inevitably discovered a new line or curve to commit to memory. The changes were a comfort, each one a celebration of the time she had been given to watch him age and grow as a man, a minister, and a father.

Nestling closer into the crook of his arm, she traced a slim finger down the line of his jaw. A day’s worth of beard growth had hit that sweet spot where it prickled just a bit when he kissed her, yet was soft when she brushed her fingertips down along his skin.

Roger responded to the intimacy of her touch with a contented sigh as he nuzzled his face into her loose hair. The hand resting lightly on her hip tightened. She smiled to herself as he slowly caressed the smooth skin of her back in small circles, humming a blissful tune only the two of them would recognize.

Brianna’s own hand continued its downward path, drifting over the faded, jagged scar across his throat. Her touches never lingered on his scar, not wanting to give it conscious thought, instead she rested her palm over his heart. The dark hair of his chest contrasted with his olive skin that had been burnished by long, sunlit, spring days working in the fields around the Ridge.

The inventory of his body stopped there, and she rested her head on Roger’s chest. Brianna caught a glimpse of the two little forms across the room. For what felt like the first time in a long time, both of their children were sound asleep.

Jem lay in his trundle bed, sprawled out across every inch of it. He had insisted on helping his father and grandfather with their chores and the late spring plantings the last few days, and it tuckered him out. And Mandy, her sweet little Amanda, was wrapped tightly in a thin muslin blanket in her crib, her chest rising and falling with each small breath she took. 

A feeling Brianna couldn’t describe had permeated her soul since Amanda’s birth five days before, making her thankful to have their family close and more stable than they had been in a very long time. 

After several moments, Brianna spoke, her voice a quiet murmur in Roger’s ear.

“Why Amanda?” she asked, still staring at the crib.

Roger continued to draw lazy circles on her back, somewhat reluctant to stop humming. “ _ Hmm? _ ”

“Amanda. Why that name out of all the others?” She turned her face towards his, hoping to speak more clearly. “You were so certain of it that I didn’t think to ask.”

His fingers stopped their movement, his hand coming to rest on the low dip of her back.

“Oh,” he said, clearing his throat. His voice still wavered at times after periods of rest. Finally, he continued, “Well, it was my grandmother’s name.”

Brianna was silent, trying to recall if she had known Roger’s grandmother’s name before that moment. She realized she hadn’t; when he spoke of her, he would simply refer to her as “Gran.” They once planned on using his mother’s name, Marjorie, if the baby was a girl. But never once had he mentioned his grandmother’s name as a possibility.

“She took us in after my father was declared missing in action, ye know. And she died with my mother in The Blitz.” His voice was still heavy, but she knew it wasn’t due to the damage done to his vocal chords. “I don’t remember much of it, but at the funeral, Dad- the Reverend, he talked about how the name Amanda meant ‘loved by everyone’. I never forgot it.”

After a moment, Roger continued. “She held my hand as we sought shelter in the tube station, my mother on one side of me, her on the other. And in spite of everything we had been through and the danger I knew was still to come, I felt safe. She always brought us both, my mother and I, a sense of peace, and I think Mandy did the same for you, when I couldn’t be there.”

Brianna felt the prickle of tears. Roger had known great loss, but he still saw the love to be had in this world, and recognized those who were worthy of it.

“I hope ye don’t mind.” She heard the hesitancy in her husband’s voice, and it made her heart ache.

“No. Roger, I love it.” Her statement was sincere. He kissed the top of her head and she lifted her face so he could place another on her lips.

“She did do the same, you know. From the moment I realized that she existed, I knew we’d find a way back to you, and she brought me peace.”

“And I hope she continues to bring that to us. That, and so much more, Bree. Because I think peace and love will soon be in short supply and we will need to hold fast to what we have of it and not let go.”

“What do you mean?” 

“With the war. With all the uncertainty coming. And I can’t help but feel there’s something else. Something that makes me so grateful that we are all together right now.” Brianna pressed closer to him, and he drew her tightly against himself.

“Don’t worry yerself about it now though, hen. Sleep, before she wakes and needs you again.”

She let out a contented sigh, allowing the warmth of the cabin and her own tiredness overtake her. But on the edge of consciousness she heard Roger’s voice one last time.

“Amanda Claire MacKenzie. That’ll be her name.” The pride was evident in his voice, even in her sleepy state. “Our Mandy.”

  
“No,” she said on a yawn. “Amanda Claire  _ Hope  _ MacKenzie.” And with that, sleep overtook her.


End file.
